SilverPlated Glass
by Gerri
Summary: Years after they went their separate ways, one of the exBrotherhood members receives a cassette tape...from an old friend.


__

Disclaimer: No, I don't own X-Men: Evolution…Sad, but true.

A/N: Yes, this is my first X-Men: Evolution fic…

****

Silver-Plated Glass

Saturday morning.

On the fourth floor of an apartment complex, contemporary music played at a comfortable level in the living room of an apartment shared by two university graduates.

One of them walked into the living room, sat down with his sandwich and went over their mail, sorting it out: his in one pile and his roommate's in the other.

His roommate only had one package.

He swallowed the mouthful of sandwich that he was chewing, and called his friend.

"Lance! Lance, package for you!"

He continued to yell for another five minutes until a bedroom door opened and a young man stumbled out, dark brown hair rumpled and sticking out in every possible gravity-defying position.

"Geez, Aaron, I was trying to sleep!"

"Not my fault that you had to be woken up," was the indifferent reply as he thrust the small, brown package at Lance, emphasising his point.

Lance was about to say something else when Aaron switched the TV on.

He sighed, glanced from the TV, to his friend, then took the small package and retreated back to his room.

He closed the door and locked it, a habit that he'd formed when he'd been living with three other boys. One of whom seemed to be on a permanent sugar high and had a strong tendency to come barging into any of his housemates' rooms at any time of day, his sole reason being: "I'm bored."

Lance turned the package over in his hands. There was a return address on the back.

Not one that he recognised.

He shook the package.

It rattled in reply.

He tore open the taped end, and a cassette tape fell into his waiting hand.

Examining it briefly, he then popped it into the tape deck and pressed "play", then pulled up a chair for himself.

A voice started talking; a voice with a slight whine to it; it sounded familiar.

"Hey Lance; look, I never really was any good at writin', y'know that, so, uh...I'm sendin' you this tape instead." A pause. "Hope the sound doesn't come out fuzzy," the voice mumbled to itself.

"Anyway, it's me-"

"Todd," Lance said aloud as he finally placed the voice to a face and as the tape deck said the same name.

"-Todd. Took me a while to get hold of your address _and _to make sure that it's the right one. Well, uh...I guess you're wondering why I'm suddenly sendin' you somethin' after eight years. Y'see, it's 'cause...I thought you should know..." the voice faltered. Todd cleared his throat.

"I...thought you, uh...should know that...Pietro..."

Lance looked up from the floor, staring at the tape deck.

__

'How'd Pietro suddenly come into the conversation?' he wondered.

"Pietro...last week...he, um...passed away." A pause. "God, that sounded so bloody _formal_," the voice muttered.

A longer pause followed, almost as if Todd had expected Lance's reaction.

"What the...what..." Lance stuttered. "No way." He paused. "You freakin' pullin' my leg, Todd?!" he screamed at the tape deck. Small, unanchored objects in the room began to quiver.

The voice began speaking again.

"Look, uh...I know it's hard to absorb...I didn't know it either, till, um...till Wanda called me up last week. Scared the hell outta me when I found out that I was talkin' to that whack job sister of his, yo. An' then she drops the damn bomb on me. Outta nowhere, she tells me, 'Pietro's dead.'"

Pause.

"She...told me to come to the funeral, 'cause she had somethin' that she wanted to give me. Somethin' that Pietro wanted me to have. So I went, an' the first thing I asked her was what happened. An' she just stared at me an' told me that it was natural causes.

"I almost screamed at her. I told her that there was no way that a normal, healthy guy like Pietro could die of 'natural causes' when 'e was barely 26.

"An' she gave me this smile that was sad and creepy all at the same time, an' told me, 'Pietro wasn't _normal_.' Then she gave me this letter that Pietro wrote..."

Lance heard paper rustling faintly in the background.

The voice paused again.

"Pietro explained everythin' to me in that letter he wrote. I know you an' he were pretty close, 'cause the age gap was smaller, but don't feel hurt or anythin' if 'e didn't send you somethin', 'kay?"

Lance felt a faint twinge of surprise.

Todd had actually foreseen the slight resentment that he was feeling over the fact that he hadn't received anything from the person whom he considered one of his best friends.

"Pietro an' I were pretty close too; we just never let you an' Freddy see it very much, that's all." Pause. "Don't get any ideas, 'kay? Pietro an' I were good friends. That's it."

Another pause. 

"Can't've been a very good friend if I left 'im to all his problems like that..." Todd mumbled to himself again.

"I always used to complain 'bout my crappy life to 'im, tell 'im what assholes my parents were, all that kinda stuff. An' Pietro always made some cynical joke 'bout whatever it was that I was complainin' 'bout.

"Always made me laugh at my own problems. Always made me see that, hey, things could be worse, an' at least I had you guys. Pietro taught me how to laugh at Life, yo. 'Cause as far as he was concerned, Life was just one long challenge to 'im, an' he figured that if it was gonna last that long, he might s'well enjoy it an' get as many kicks out of it as he could.

"He always said that 'e wanted to show Life that 'e wouldn't break under all its pressure; that he'd win. An' that letter he wrote...he said that he did. He won. He won 'cause Life could never keep up with 'im.

"He explained why 'e left us so soon. He said...said he was sorry. Funny, you ever hear him say that before?" There was a soft chuckle. "Anyway, he said that 'e was sorry, but it was really 'is mutation's fault. His mutation...made his body speed up; his heart had to beat 'bout four or five times faster than an average person's, just so that it could get enough oxygen through his system to compensate for the speed that 'is body was functionin' at." Short, nervous laughter. "I feel like I'm recitin' an old Biology lesson here, yo." Pause.

"Well, because his heart worked so much faster, the cardiovascular muscle wore out much faster too. His heart gave out on 'im. That's what happened. He, uh...died in his sleep, by the way. Nice way to go, huh? Peaceful too..."

Silence.

"Y'know what else he wrote in that letter? Pietro said that the one thing that 'e hated the most 'bout 'is life was that no matter how fast 'e ran, he couldn't run from Death. An' the most ironic thing was that everyday that he was livin', he was just gettin' closer an' closer to it, not further, like he wanted to. He hated not bein' able to run from Death...and the thing was, he knew that it was comin' after 'im faster than it was after everyone else."

Pause.

"I wish he'd told us...told us 'bout...his speed...shortenin' his life..."

Silence.

"Wish he'd told us," Todd's voice whispered faintly.

"Even if he had, we couldn't do anything about it, Todd," Lance whispered back, as if the real Todd might be able to hear him through the tape deck.

"I'm still tryin' to imagine it, yo. Tryin' to imagine what Life must've been like for 'im, knowin' that 'e had a shorter-than-average lifespan. Wonder if 'e thought 'bout it everyday...thought 'bout exactly how much time 'e had left." Pause. "If Pietro had told us, I wouldn't've let 'im be alone like that," Todd's voice went on earnestly, as if saying what he would've done would bring their silver-haired friend back.

"Todd, stop it..." Lance said quietly, closing his eyes and leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.

"...I would've talked to 'im 'bout anythin' and everythin', as long as it kept 'is mind off 'is problems. I would've never let him go runnin' alone; I'd've made him drag me along, so that if 'e stopped halfway and wanted to talk, I'd be there for 'im to talk to...I would _never_ have thought that 'e _needed_ to be left alone."

Pause.

Mumbling again.

"I'm sorry, Pietro..."

Silence.

Paper rustled.

A faint, bitter chuckle.

"Y'know, I don't even know why I'm tapin' this. Maybe I just need to get the feelin' that if you listen to this...at least someone's listenin' to me."

Pause.

"Y'know, when Wanda called me up an' told me that Pietro was gone, that was the hardest thing I ever had to swallow, man. Pietro was always runnin' circles 'round everyone; it was like 'e had the whole world at 'is feet an' no one could ever make 'im do anythin' that 'e didn't want to do.

"It was like 'e was in control of everything."

Pause.

"An' when Wanda told me that 'e was gone...it was like...For the first time in all those years I've known 'im, it was like somethin' snapped, and for the first time...I thought... _'Oh. Pietro's human too.'_"

The voice paused again.

"Never occurred to me that one day, he'd be gone. It was just...it seemed like Pietro would always be there...

"Maybe I thought that way 'cause it seemed like Life could never catch up with 'im. But y'know what's the funniest thing? Life didn't have to catch up with 'im. 'Cause Death did.

"An' now that 'e's gone, I feel like crap, 'cause honestly, I took 'im for granted, man. Never took the time to really know 'im." Pause. "Maybe that' why I'm suddenly sendin' you this. Maybe it's 'cause I'm scared that if you go away tomorrow or the next day or next week...at least I made an effort...at least I didn't make the same mistake."

Silence.

"I think...I think that's all I wanted to say. If you've reached this part of the tape, then...thanks for listenin' to me."

There was a muffled click, and then silence.

Lance stopped the tape.

He looked down at the brown envelope briefly, thinking about times from about ten years back, about the friend that he hadn't known he'd lost, until now, and about Todd.

He took a deep breath, exhaled and supported his head on one hand.

Then his eyes focused on the writing on the envelope, and he allowed himself the first smile all that morning.

__

'I could take the coming Monday off from work…'

***

Knocking echoed through the small modest flat. The Spartan living room led into a small kitchen corner, and the owner of the flat emerged from the one bedroom, which also had the flat's bathroom adjoined to it.

He opened the door, automatically saying "Yeah?" to whoever it was, before falling silent.

There was silence for five seconds between the two men.

"Todd," the one at the door finally said.

"Lance," Todd returned, nodding slightly.

Silence.

"Guess you got my package," Todd continued in a small voice.

"Yeah." A pause. "You gonna keep me out here?"

Todd started and looked up, tearing his gaze from the floor.

"Sorry," he mumbled, stepping back and pulling the door back a bit more.

Lance stepped into the flat, dressed simply in a T-shirt and jeans; Todd then closed the door and hopped over the back of the grey sofa and onto it.

"Well, si' down, make yourself at home," Todd said, gesturing flippantly to the space beside him. "What, you grown a set of manners?" Todd grinned.

Lance laughed softly and sat down, noticing how much Todd had changed. His skin wasn't that sallow, sickly colour anymore, in fact, he was rather tanned. His eyes were still yellow, but they verged more on light brown now, and his messy hair was somewhat tamed; he'd cropped it short.

"How are ya?" Todd asked as he fingered the hem of his sweatshirt.

"Fine. Finished Uni about a few years back."

"Majored in?"

"Geology," Lance chuckled.

Todd smiled.

"How 'bout you?"

"Oh, don' worry 'bout me; my life's pretty good. Don' read the Sports section of the paper much, do ya?" Todd grinned again.

"Not really."

"Thought so. If you did, you'd know what I'm doin' nowadays." Pause. "Sports. Long jump, high jump, you got anythin' needs jumpin', Todd Tolansky's your man. I started on swimmin' a few years ago, and I'm the best breaststroke swimmer there is," he finished, grinning all the while.

"So you're an athlete."

"Yep. Just like Pietro was."

Silence.

"Pietro gave me the idea, actually. I didn' know what I wanted to do with my life, an' 'e suggested sports. I thought 'e was kiddin', but 'e knocked some sense into me; told me that with my jump, I'd definitely leave the competition in the dust.

"Things were like that for the two of us ever since the Brotherhood went their separate ways: Pietro burned up the track while I dominated part of the field and the pool."

"Why don't you move out of here, then? Get yourself a better place?"

"Nah...I like it here. The money that I get just sits there in the bank where I can use it for loads of other stuff. I like this place; it...kinda reminds me of how things used to be for us."

Lance smiled.

"Our house was worse than this, Todd."

"Yeah, well, it's the closest I can get to it. They pulled down that old shack three years ago, didja know?"

"Oh, uh...no."

Pause.

"Did you...deliberately put a return address on that package?"

Todd shrugged.

"Yes and no, I guess. It's a habit, after all, but maybe, somewhere inside me, I did want you to come see me, anyway."

Another pause.

Todd stood up.

"You, uh...wanna go an' see Pietro? The...cemetery ain't far away from here, yo."

Silence.

"You never said how he and Wanda patched things up."

Todd shrugged again.

"I don' know what happened, but I'm glad it did. Pietro's life was probably a lot better because of it."

Pause.

"Let's go," Lance said as he stood.

"See Pietro?" Todd's eyes brightened.

"Yeah. It'll kinda be like seeing old friends again."

End


End file.
